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Holiday snaps

Tuesday Jan 21, 2014

I went overseas at the end of last year to the UK and France. It was fucking amazing.

it was my father, my sister Sabine and I for 4.5 weeks for my Dad’s birthday. We did London, Bath, Salisbury, York, lakes District, Northern England, Wales, Dublin, Belfast, Scotland, Paris and Normandy.  While travelling with your family is, uh, interesting it was a trip of a lifetime.

When I’m with my family I turn into the jerk younger sister that I am. Considering that Sabine and I had to share rooms and beds for several nights the woman is a saint for not strangling me in my sleep.

Rather than beautiful scenic photos you get the below photos where I pull faces at the camera all over!

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On a sight seeing bus.

 

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On the flight home. I’m overjoyed.

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Waiting at the airport to fly home. I’m really overjoyed.

 

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Trying to take a photo.
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Flipping the bird at my sister at the Bronte parsonage.
That place was awesome and sad.

 

 

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Scotland National Museum pretending to be a giant skeleton head?

 

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On the Scottish Coast on the drive to Edinburgh. Bitterly cold and blowing a gale.

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Waiting at St Pancras station for the Eurostar to Pariimage

This is the vending machine outside our hotel rooms in Paris. I put money in for the brownie bites you can vaguely see hanging half way out.
There may have been an unsuccessful shoulder charge and the next day there was this sign.

facebook stalking gone bad

Friday Mar 5, 2010

I’ve been giving serious thought to retiring as soon as possible, i.e. at 30.

However I’m 28, turning 29 in April, so I’m thinking I need to work out a game plan.

So far the game plan is either turn wild and catch/grow all of my food and live in the bush. Or win the lottery.

Both are unfeasible and retarded. Which just leaves me with a job that I like most of the time (but is horrendously busy at the moment and giving me an eye twitch) a credit card debt that I’m slowing chipping away at, and a desire to buy this (but not live that far away from civilisation. And pay half a million dollars for the pleasure.)

Life has been busier lately. Work has yet to settle down, so work days are just 10 hours of constant busy. My 2 new bosses are working out well though which is cool.

The wedding planning for Beth has started already, we went to the Hunter Valley last weekend to look at wedding venues. We looked at 3 venues, and good lord people get married in funny/ugly places. One of the larger places we went to held their reception in essentially a cafeteria. Beth refused it on the grounds that if she can see the bain marie from the reception then that is not the place for her. Normally I think she’s too fussy but it’s a valid point.

She chose a gorgeous old convent for the wedding instead. It’s beautiful and small and we can stay there as well and she did good.

I am a complete fatty at the moment. There was talk of orange dresses for bridesmaids before K and I beat some sense into Beth, as we’d look like chubby little pumpkins.

Pumpkins are not hot.

Delicious. But not hot.

So, I’ve been having a relatively shit time with things lately. Yesterday in particular, so I thought I’d cheer myself by doing two things I enjoy – shoe shopping and Facebook stalking of boys I adore or dated. Stupid decision. There were no cute shoes, and do you guys remember this boy?

Facebook tells me he’s engaged.

Ugh.

So I’m feeling like an unlovable loser at the moment. Normally I think I’m just tops and should be beating the boys away with sticks (humble too bviously.) So this is not particularly pleasant.

Actually it fucking sucks.

So, this weekend I’m having a lady date with Beth and Meg who is 1 week away from her due date. I’ve already had a conversation with her that if she goes into labour while I’m there I’m not helping. I cannot see her vagina in any circumstances and I will only be at the party end of a birthing suite with her.

Fingers crossed she waits until after said lady date.


dear me….

Monday Jan 18, 2010

While I’m still coughing like a 90 year old smoker I’m finally feeling better after last week’s black lung epidemic. This is good as while I still sound dodgy I feel much better and can finally sleep through the night.

Next stop cutting back on smoking. I’m not going to quit, quitting is for losers. Plus I’m not ready, so cutting back is a good alternative.

I’ve also decided on another sabbatical. It’s not the good kind of sabbatical though, as I’ll be on a sabbatical from any type of low down action. I’m doing a 3 month celibacy run again, I quite enjoyed the one I did a couple of years ago. Well, enjoyed is not the right word but I met a lot of really awesome new boys and did not sleep with the old boy/s once. This was a win in my book.

Even if (and I can’t believe I’m putting this in writing) my celebrations at the end of the 3 month period last time involved sleeping with 2 boys in one week and then realising with horror that my period was late.

For a good few days I had a skanky Jerry Springer/Maury Povich style freak out that if I was actually pregnant I wouldn’t know who the father was, and one of the boys was a gorgeous Canadian backpacker who left the country the next day, aaannnd I couldn’t remember his first name.

 So, maybe the celebrations will be a little more low key this time.

 But yes, no sex. No boy action at all. For 3 months.

 Trust me, it’s a good exercise for me as I tend to keep boys around long past their use-by date and before you know it you realise that you still see the boy you lost your virginity to regularly and you’re still having sleepovers with a boy you broke up with 5 years ago.

 Jesus.

 Anyway, I was going to do a normal update (hung out with Dad this weekend, went and saw Avatar in 3D and just ended up getting motion sickness, found out I apparently talk in my sleep) but you got a Lucy is a whore update instead.

Awesome!


new years eve, bathing Poppy, ribs and beer…

Monday Nov 30, 2009

1 x success, 1 x failure this weekend.

Success?

Gave Poppy a bath and we’re both still standing with no bloodshed and not one scratch mark. I gave up on the shower idea after I realised I would get wet. So she went into the laundry sink. Did she like it? Hell no. Did she cling to the tap like her life depended on it? Yup. Did she look like a drowned rat afterwards? Yeah, my poor little wet rat. Is she clean and flea free? Clean definitely, hopefully flea free.

hide your shame

hide your shame

I won’t be in a hurry to do it again, but I’m glad it was as terrible as I thought it would be.

The failure relates purely to my digestive system after my beer and ribs night on Saturday. I enjoyed myself immensely, I forget how nice it is being on Sydney harbour in the summer time. Lovely. So I was talked into getting a full rack of ribs, and it was dee-licious. Combined with the beer though, and then the cider afterwards and let’s say I don’t think my insides are happy with me at all. Like, at all.

Speaking of immense amounts of trouble I just found out there’s a doughnut store opening essentially a block away from my apartment. I do not need a doughnut store near me, especially one that is next door to my grocery store and is literally a 2 minute walk from my house. I may as well just buy a muumuu and throw away my cross trainer. Give me strength.

I just found out what we’re doing for New Years, which awesomely involves renting a beach house for a week in Palm Beach, a.k.a. the beach of Home & Away. What this means is that at some point after I drink too much sangria or other dodgy punch type drink I mix up, I will be recreating scenes from H&A, including but not limited to Michael dying and Pippa trying to save him, Bobby dying and (forget his name) trying to save her, and also some Alf action yelling at kids. It’s going to be AWESOME. 


ribs and beer and boys

Friday Nov 27, 2009

Man, it’s been a bit of a week of boys behaving badly and I have no idea where or why.

Awesome girls going through shitty breakups or putting up with douchebag boy behaviour. It’s strange, I’m just quite glad I’m single at times like this.

Today I had to manually enter details of a telephone bill that has 500 numbers on it and a hard copy bill of over 1600 pages into excel. Do you know how long it took before I had an absolute meltdown and refused to do anymore? 3 hours, 917 pages and 238 mobiles. FML.

Bloody large Australian telecommunications company starting with the letter T, with their stupid bloody online billing system not working.

Let’s be honest though if my company will pay for 3 hours of my day spent doing data entry and listening to music, I am down with it. Even if I did get RSI.

My boy scene is officially dead. I have a married man who wants to make out with me and doesn’t seem concerned by him having a wife. I have Mark who has done himself an injury and needs a complete knee reconstruction and will be out of action for 2+ months. I have an old boy, who I absolutely adored, that I just found on Facebook and I’m thinking sending a friend request would be a bad idea, right? Bearded Boy is officially a friend, which I’m fine with as he is a complete and utter grumpy rude shit at work. DJ and Bearded Boy get on really well so he’s becoming a part of our group of friends, but seriously so stressed and rude at work that we barely talk in business hours. Then outside of work? Peachy keen. Stupid boys.

Since Mark has become useless to me (in the nicest possible way of course) I think that means I need to…..go out and meet people.

Jesus.

Maybe I should just work on bumping into that nice man who just moved into my apartment building. Relationship without the effort!

I just hate the dating and meeting part. I mean, why don’t I just wear a scorecard with my mobile number on it on my t-shirt, surely that would be easier than the rejection and effort, and dates and blah. God, just send me nice single bearded men!

Anyway, it’s Friday afternoon. I was supposed to be having breakfast with Adam tomorrow, but he made other plans 🙁 But I have a beer and rib date with Beth Saturday afternoon which will be delightful. And be delightful I mean eating half a cow and drinking a keg of beer in a ladylike manner….


boxing kangaroos and bath time

Wednesday Nov 25, 2009

I got bored of my old theme and updated. It’s simple but I like it. (And if you do not like it and leave a comment saying so I will totally cut you.) (I’m scared of knives but I give a wicked chinese burn.)

Amazingly when I updated the template I didn’t delete my blog entirely/send out the address to everyone in my company directory/break the internet. And yes, these things are possibilities when I attempt to use my mad skillz to do coding.

Yesterday I had a good day, and today is also going well. So that’s two decent days in a row where I don’t fear for a mental breakdown. This is a good thing. Hopefully it was just a bad few weeks and things are a-okay.

Plus this weekend I’m catching up with Adam for breakfast, and then Beth and DJ for afternoon beers and ribs. Beer and ribs on a sunny Sydney day is heaven. Especially when I can do it wearing a maxi dress. That has no defined waist line.

That’s right ladies and gentleman, it IS crazy that I’m single.

I’ve discovered that Poppy has fleas. How in earth she got these considering she hasn’t played, with let alone been near another cat in 6 months, or been outside (actually that just sounds awful) and yet still has them?

This means……….bath time. I’m scared. I’m a firm believer that cats, like vagina’s, are self cleaning (single handed most disgusting yet true thing I’ve ever said) so I’ve never bathed any of my pet cats before. Plus, George was feisty, and Lily would probably have let me bath her but then smothered me in my sleep later, so I’ve just never been game.

But Poppy? Although I think I’d end up looking like this guy I think they’d just be surface wounds.

As an aside, seriously, click through on the link above especially if you don’t live in Australia. I fucking love a country where one of the emblems on the coat of arms (a kangaroo and an emu) tries to kill both a pet dog and its owner. And the dude who gets mauled (and has some wicked scratch marks) just says, “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to watch Skippy quite the same.”

It’s like shark attack victims in Australia, theytypically are these laidback surfers and will blithely mention that they just smacked it in the face as it was trying to take off their leg until it stopped. And that they plan to get back in the water tomorrow.

I know it’s not all Australians, but the stereotypes of Australia and its inhabitants do exist and I bloody love them for it.

Anyway, apparently it’s “Leave Work on Time” day today (as well as White Ribbon Day –  good cause) so since I start at 7 this means that my home time should be oooh, an hour ago. So I might head home at 4 and have an early mark.

Ps : I want to do a lot of my Christmas shopping online, specifically etsy.com and madeit.com.au. Please let me know if you have any favourite stores or items that you love on there that I could use for inspiration?


waxing and heat and stuff

Wednesday Nov 4, 2009

I have had enough of this disgusting heat that we’ve been having in Sydney. When I was coming home last night at 6:30 p.m. it was 38 degrees. That’s really fucking hot.

The reason why I hate it this year in comparison to last? I used to have reverse cycle air conditioning. Beautifully chilled and controllable air conditioning. This apartment, while insanely newer and nicer, is useless with no air conditioning whatsoever. As a result I’ve spent my lunch hour today searching for fans because I cannot spend another night like  last night wearing next to nothing and still hot and sweaty. I am a lady! Ladies perspire gently!

The weekend was busy but good, Friday night I had a couple of houseguests so I entertained and hosted and stuff. I also drank a lot of wine and champagne and woke up hungover Saturday morning. Saturday night was Sabine’s birthday party and it was good to see everyone and have muchos champagne. The top was cute, Sabine liked her new ring, food was great, just a really good night. Although I did get into a discussion argument with Bec’s husband because he is a complete douchebag. I knew there was a reason I didn’t like him but not giving a shit when your wife is upset puts you back on my “would kick in the kidneys if there was no else around” list.

Sunday I was lazy with a capital LAZE. It was lovely. Then I’d taken Monday off work and my cross trainer was delivered, I am an exercising machine. And by machine I mean I’ve been on it every day since I got it. Granted it’s only been 2 days but baby steps, people, baby steps.

I need a holiday. Actually I’d like to retire, but I’m going to need more than $7.00 in my savings account to retire at 28. I hate working, I don’t mind the work itself or the people I work with, but I’m just tired of getting up early every day and getting home late. And I’m just at a loss as to what else I could do. And then I think about the apartment/house I want to buy and if I have a debt of nearly half a million dollars giving up work is really not an option then.

Maybe, I’m just lazy and need to suck it up.

I’ve just heard rumours that they’re going to be doing a forced leave period over Christmas and New Years at work. That would be awesome, since right now Mel has put in for holidays over Christmas so I can’t go on leave. But if the business shuts down? Can totally not be at work and can actually spend time with Mum who will be over. Send Christmas shutdown vibes out, yes?

My beautician was in a hurry on Saturday and I think has damaged me. Not only did I accidentally open my eye while she was doing my eyelash tinting (dye in your eye burns like a motherfucker) (also I rhymed)  but I think the wax was a bit hot or she was using different stuff because shit aint’ right. Because you already know far too much about me I can tell you she occasionally (that’s a lie, she does it each month) waxes my upper lip. And now it looks like I’ve got pash rash. Seriously I don’t mind pash rash if I get to make out with a stubbled boy for a period of time. But no way in hell is it fair to get pash rash from waxing.

Fucking body hair.

On that delightful note I am out.


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